Lord of the Flies Epilogue
by JackMerridew25
Summary: This is just a simple epilogue I wrote. I hope you enjoy : Told from Ralph's point of view The beginning is a little confusing


_PART 1_

A tall, thin boy stood in the center of the hallway. Dirty-blonde hair spilled down his neck and curled over his ears. His back was curved downward, as if he were insecure or had bad posture. Or both. The boy stared in fascination at the walls that, to any passerby, had absolutely no remarkable quality about them comparable to the rest of the establishment. The building was grand – with high ceilings that sported chandeliers worth thousands of pounds. The rooms and corridors were carpeted with black velvet and colorful roses. Every other rose had petals stitched in varying colors of light pink, to match the walls; the walls that the boy couldn't help but stare at.

He started to wonder why he was so intrigued by the oh-so-tacky and commonplace wallpaper that held his gaze. He supposed he was staring for lack of anything better to do, and for fear of having another anxiety attack. The boy decided to stand and stare at the surface of pink roses for quite some time more, before a clunk of heels could be heard rounding the corner.

"Ralph?" the boy turned to see his mother with a worried expression. It was apparent she had just taken a shower by the way her graying-blonde hair looked slick and was messily shoved into a bun. She looked worried. Ralph quickly became aware that he must have shown a distant expression, and willed himself to come back into the moment.

"Hi mum." I quipped before she gave me that smothering hug. She smelled like sandalwood and shampoo. I smiled, and she released me.

"Ralph, I need you to help your sister pack for tomorrow. Have you gotten everything together yet?" she asked.

"I just need to pack my toothbrush and a couple sweaters. I'm mostly done." I explained. She gave a weak smile, clapped me lightly on the shoulder, and then nodded.

"Remember what I told you. About having people think you're…"

"Batty?" I, surprisingly, didn't cringe at all upon the word – but absent-mindedly finished her sentence. She nodded again, then touched a hand to my face and moved aside a piece of my hair.

"Right. Now, just keep in mind that your sister will need your help during your first year at the new boarding school. Find a little time for her. Alright?"

"Alright, mum. I will. No worries, really." I tried to comfort her.

"You're a good boy, Ralph, and I know you won't let anything happen to her. I'll be home tonight after you've both hopefully gone to sleep, and I'll expect you both up and ready by 4am to go to the airport."

"Okay, we'll be ready. I'll make sure of it. Have a nice trip, I'll see you soon." She turned and waved, looking broken and exhausted. I couldn't blame her. For the last three years she'd done nothing but worry about me. With my dad always gone, and my sis graduating primary school, I tried my best not to be a burden. But it was so hard when I had come back from the island – keeping my mother up at night screaming and cursing, my sister being exposed to words that, consciously, I would have made sure she never heard. But the nightmares were constant, and my body's reaction to them, completely unpredictable and unavoidable. Every time I lay in bed, I tossed and turned, frightened of what would happen after I fell asleep. Nowadays it was better - the nightmares never faded away, but I'd learned to stop screaming in my sleep.

I started to walk down the opposite end of the hallway that my mom had exited, and towards room 345. I chuckled at the image of my sister trying to stuff her whole collection of Diane's Dolls into her suitcase. I tried sliding my key into the door. Realizing I had it the wrong way, I turned it upside down and turned it so that the door popped open. Sure enough, there was Julie – sitting on top of her suitcase in the living room, trying to zip around the sleeves of clothing that hung out of the sides.

"Jules, lemme help you with that." I suggested. She came away and sat on the couch, while I stuffed her clothing back into the case and made sure it was zipped all the way.

"Mom told me to help you pack, but I can see you've got 't all figured out." I held my arms open for her. She giggled, and jumped into them joyfully. I knew that it was going to be hard to visit her when we moved to Stanborough. Stanborough was a secondary school for boys and girls in Watford. I'd never been to Watford or Hertfordshire, but the name was rather queer.

"Oh Ralph, this new school, it's going to be wizard, right? There will be other girls there? Will they be nice girls? And, Ralph will there be-"

"Well, Julie, we'll have to see when we get there." The way she used the word, "wizard" reminded me of when I was her age. When everything was new, exciting, and void of fear.

"As for the girls, I'm positive there will be others – yours is an all-girl program, and you're fantastic at making friends." She smiled and bounced back onto the couch.

"Mum wants us to get to bed early, so I'm going to fix you some dinner and then I'll want you to get ready, alright?"

"Alright!" she replied. She turned on the TV to _The Prisoner_ and I went off into the kitchen to cook. The hotel had provided us with a small oven and freezer, so it was rather easy to make a meal. I popped a vegetable lasagna in, and, since it was a special night, put some crumpets in the toaster. The kettle was on the stove, and later I would have some tea to calm my nerves. I hadn't been in a real social situation for 2 years, and I wasn't looking forward to going to the new school. I would be forced to blend into society, constantly hiding the emotional scars of the island so that people wouldn't think me barmy.

The crumpets came up with a ding, and soon after, the lasagna was ready. We ate and talked for the next hour, and then I sent Julie off to bed with a bit of tea. I stayed up an extra hour, deciding it was more important to remain calm than to get a good night's sleep. Eventually, I found myself in bed staring at another set of walls with pink roses. They were familiar to me even after only a week of staying here. The roses were connected by ivy leaves and thick, green vines – the background a solid beige. I started to feel a bit sleepy, but kept myself awake, scared of what might happen if I fell asleep.

As I became more and more tired, my heart started to beat rapidly – and the walls began to change. The ivy leaves twisted into the sides of the vines, which became three-dimensional creepers, falling to the ground with a thud. The velvet carpets dissolved into mounds of white sand, and palm trees began to grow out of the corners of the room. It was the same every night, and all I could do was cover my eyes with my arms, scooting onto the back of my bed. And when I removed my arms, it was all around me. The beautiful but hungry blue waves, lashing at the land, the same waves that carried Simon's body away from life. There were the rustles in the bushes from small boars, and the cry of the hunters on Castle Rock. The pig run stretched for miles and miles, through the swimming holes, shadows, and tall trees. Sharpened sticks stuck themselves through the jungle of creepers, and out came a herd of painted savages headed towards me. I ran away, towards the waves, safe from their spears – safe from everyone but the boy who always managed to block my path.

I ran headfirst into a bony surface, and dropped to the ground. I looked up to see a figure covered in paint. He was unidentifiable from the neck down, but on the top of his head were the unmistakable strands of curly, red hair.

Jack.

His cold blue eyes held a confused fury that was only noticeable after the nightmare had recurred many times. Something deep within them held the vulnerability of being generally perplexed, and the excitement of the power he held over me at that moment and time. Jack looked down, and chuckled. Sticking his spear towards me, I rush around him and into the waves, paddling out as far as possible – the cold, salty water against my face undistinguishable from my panicked tears. When I felt arms wrap around the base of my neck, I woke up gasping for breath. It was still dark, but the alarm clock on my right showed 3:25.

I shook off the nightmare, and went to wake my sister. She was clutching her doll to her chest, and snoring very lightly. I tapped her shoulder. She moaned, and rolled over. I pushed her a bit, and she groaned even louder now.

"Too…early…." she mumbled. I told her the time, and that we were to leave in half an hour. She slowly got to her feet and slipped on some pink slippers. I went to take a shower and put on some casual clothing. Mom was at the door when we were ready to go with our bags, and we checked out at the front desk. The drive to the airport was uneventful and ended quickly. The road was deserted due to the time of morning. The airport, however, was crowded and stuffy. I couldn't wait to get on the plane and be far away from the hustle and bustle of hundreds of people bordering planes to travel…wherever they were going. We waited for the number of the plane to show up on a screen, and then we walked to our seats towards the back. The plane was huge and commercial, not like the plane I'd last been on. The last one was small and very personal, and the sense of flying was extremely evident. You could look out of the window and imagine no barrier between yourself and the clouds. In this plane, however, it was as if I wasn't flying at all but rather, in the living room of my house back in Liverpool. Unfortunately, my seat was several rows ahead of Mum and Julie, so I was left alone until a girl showed up fifteen minutes later and sat in the chair next to me.

She was around my age, maybe a year older, and had long, dark, curly hair. Her face was shaped a bit like a horse's, her nose long and her eyes a bit far apart. She wasn't ugly or pretty – but fairly average looking. I wanted to say hello – but, like I mentioned, I'm not so good with social interaction. I waited for her to say something.

"Hullo." She greeted, and then smiled widely. I returned a half-hearted smile and replied,

"H-hullo."

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Ralph. And y-yours?" I stuttered, wanting to sink into the floor.

"Me name's Julie."

"Julie! That's m-my-m-my sissie's name."

"Fancy that." She giggled. I blushed, wishing my sister were here to break the awkwardness of human interaction. I felt like I wanted to barf. I preferred being alone, almost wanting to have my own separate compartment on the plane.

"So uhhh w-where are you headed?" I asked her.

"To Inverness, and you?"

"Oh, I'm staying i-in the UK. Headed to H-Hertfordshire."

"Hertfordshire? Huh. Never heard of it."

"I'd n-never heard of it either." I cracked an obscure smile.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Ralph. Have fun in…ummm-"

"-Hertfordshire."

"Yes, that."

"T-thank you. You too."

"Me? Oh, of course you mean Inverness-"

"-I'm s-sorry. Have fun in…I-Inverness." I sounded ridiculous. I was extra nervous because I had a newly acquired fear of planes. This was understandable, seeing as the last plane I was on crashed in the middle of nowhere. But I tried to hide this fact as well as I hid everything else. The taste of bile started to creep up my neck the more and more uncomfortable I became with the company. There was nothing wrong with her, but I really wasn't used to talking to people I didn't know. All of a sudden, I lurched forward and vomited all over the seat in front of me.

Julie screeched, stood up and walked to the attendants' office, probably to ask for another seat. Half of me was content with not having her sitting by me anymore, and the other half was disappointed that I had scared another person off.

The rest of the flight lasted about two hours, and was a combination of me sleeping and smacking my head on the armrests. _Why couldn't I just be normal?_ Everyone on the plane was pretty well behaved aside from the three drunken men singing five rows ahead of me. The silence after the three drunkards' singing was comforting until the plane finally started to land. I reunited with my mom and sister, and we walked towards our rental car. It was a junky old Anglia, but it would take us to the school, and that's all that mattered.

The school was huge and castle-like. A green field separated the primary school from the secondary school, and a tall, enforced fence separated the boys from the girls. This is where I'd have to stop and say goodbye to Julie. I fixed her backpack, helped her roll up her skirt, and straighten her stockings. Then she attacked me with a hug. The hug lasted several minutes, until I pat her on the head and sent her on her way.

The first step was the office, where a man in a black business suit showed me to my dormitory in the most formal manor imaginable. I would have loved to have had my own room, but my mom insisted on me learning to "get along" with others. The room was small with two bunks and a bathroom, and the walls were covered in peeling gray paint. All the boys had already gone to the main hall for breakfast and their morning classes, I assumed, and I was advised to stay here and unpack my things. To "get comfortable" he had said. Like that was possible with all these _people_ I had to look forward to sharing a room with. The other beds were made neatly, and one was dusty and obviously hadn't been slept in for a while. I decided it was probably my bed, so I laid my pillow and blanket out, and put my clothes into the wardrobe in the corner of the room. It was about ten in the morning, and I was already tired. So I took a nap after reading a book for a good two hours, and woke up to the quieted chatter of two boys faced the other way across the room. They were around the same height, and shared the same light brown hair. Their chatter sounded creepily like one person, and I figured they might be…Oh god. I swallowed hard as one of them turned around with a frightened face. The boy's hazel eyes were huge and full of emotion. The other boy elbowed him forward, and he managed a

"H-hullo, Ralph." I closed my eyes in disbelief. The boys that talked in front of me were twins, alike in almost every single way. They acted alike, and looked similar, although, through the years, had grown so they were a couple inches different in height.

It was Samneric.

"How-" I started to talk

"We're so sorry Ralph, we really are, we-"

"-Didn't mean to tell him, you see-"

"-We-"

"-Roger-"

"-He tortured us, Ralph, and there was his spear-"

"-Sharpened at both ends!"

"-Yes, he made us, Ralph-"

"-We didn't mean to, honest-"

"-We're-"

"-We're so sorry."

They spoke in the same way they did back on the island, finishing each other's sentences as if they were one person. All I could do was stare at them in awe. Of all the schools in the UK – of every room in this massive castle, they _happened_ to be placed with me. Not that I was afraid, or mad in the slightest. I was actually quite relieved to see people I knew, aside from the violent flashbacks they brought on.

I instantly jumped from the bed and hugged them both in turn. In that moment, I had completely forgotten how they had betrayed me that night on the island– and how I had almost died because they gave up my location, before the naval officer came to rescue us all. All I could think about then was that I wasn't alone…and that it wasn't…. him…with the red hair, or Roger, or Maurice…or any of the savages. Although, I also forgot the fact that Samneric had been forced into savagery, and I didn't care at all for any thought of the sort.

The rest of the night was spent in woe at the events that had occurred three years ago, but also in laughter and joy as we caught up, played cards, and had some much-needed fun-anything to distract us from our inner turmoil.

The alarm sounded like a demented cowbell, and pulled me out of my first deep and undisturbed sleep. A boy I didn't recognize came down from the bunk above. Samneric and the strange boy started to go through the wardrobe to find their clothes for the day. I wondered how they could tell their clothes from one another's, because they were all the same grey and navy-blue uniform the boys attending the school were expected to wear. I shrugged at the thought, and started to pull my clothes on. The socks were soft and cottony, but the pants were stiff and itchy. The strange boy must have noticed my discomfort and said,

"You get used to them after a while." I nodded and put on a warm coat.

We headed downstairs to the main hall for breakfast, which started promptly at eight. There were tables laden with all sorts of food – hash browns, scrambled eggs, crumpets, butter, jam…and I realized I was hungry for it all. I piled my plate, realizing it was probably a lot more than I could eat, but not minding at the time. I sat next to Samneric and a group of boys my age, a couple older, and one who looked a lot younger with dark skin. The dark boy told me his name was August, and that was the only name I caught from the group. For most of breakfast, I was too busy stuffing my face full of delicious food to chitchat with the others, but I was glad I didn't have to think of things to say. When I was done with breakfast, I cleaned off my plate and put it on a designated countertop. Samneric and I started to walk upstairs.

I was glad to look down and see, not velvet roses, but floors made of cobblestone. I always fancied cobblestone for some reason. The cobblestone was made of huge, round, rocks of faded brick red, and they curved towards the-

"Oi! Watch where you're going, you…" I had run headfirst into someone's chest while marveling at the ground. Before I looked up, I noticed he had stopped mid-sentence and remained frozen. He was wearing a long, black cloak over his normal school uniform – and on the left side of his chest was a golden star. I slowly looked up, seeing the itchy white collar of his undershirt – and the noticeably higher collar of his robe. I figured it must have been a choir robe. His neck was bony, and his eyes – light blue. I found myself shaking uncontrollably as I saw spirals of curly red hair from under his choir cap. _It's just a nightmare…it's just a nightmare. Wake up! Wake up!_ As I backed away quickly, he stood there, the boy who had once worn face paint from head to toe – had chased me down with the intention to kill…the only boy on the island whom was known by his surname.

Jack Merridew.


End file.
